Through our personal experiences and memories that are funny things, each of us have defined and placed our values on items such as safety, fondness, “flipping out” and beauty as well as where we think those things can be found. As we walk along our trails, we move towards those who agree with those beliefs in order to have trust in what we see and feel. In a different truth, though, our field of view is limited by those connections and we stay in a place of comfortableness that doesn’t encourage transformation. Is it a real truth, then, that only certain observations hold value or is it that the restriction of that thought is the results of unfamiliar and outside insights that appear to be threatening? Do our beliefs become imaginary if others don’t consent to what we feel or is it that feeling unheard implies unworthy of being perceived of which leads to our needing to confirm our view? In the story of substance use, addicts, their family and friends and law enforcement as well as others are the participants in the particular hell of addiction. In other words, they are all together in the same narrative but each group has different details that they carry as a result of their positions and experiences on that circle. As individuals each view is valid in perception and as a whole as the parts of a designated group but what’s not there is the importance of valuing every illumination in the process of change versus only connecting with some of the observations that appear to be enough to facilitate a move. A few months ago I had the opportunity to speak with a retired police officer about how our different experiences with substance use had prevented us from being together even though we had jointly been in the same story and agreed on some of the parts of it. I am, of course, the mom of an addict that is no longer here and while I hated the substances, the fear, the pain and the cost that came into our lives, my view and actions always carried my love for Ryan. After all, I had years and years of a kind of life with him that was filled with all sorts of fabulous and fun times and those moments didn’t become imaginary nor did they lose value just because he fell or others disregarded him and were focused on only his weeds. Hope lived in those things found in the yesterdays, reminders of his possibilities, which encouraged me to keep trying despite the addiction that was destroying him and us. Every day I dreamed of going back to that place where safety, comfortableness and easiness lived and I believed that if we could just get there, everything would be all right. The real truth, though, was that we couldn’t go back because change had been enfolding us all along and no matter what we had wished for, every part , even the ones we didn’t want, were coming with us wherever we went. As exasperating and scary as it was to be dealing with my son while he was using substances to cope, law enforcement regularly encounters multiples of those individuals which increases their frustration to a level that I can only understand from the perspective of being overwhelmed by one. That knowledge has similarities in how each of us experiences parts of addiction and yet it is different because of the details of our connections with the individuals living it while also enfolding the chance to understand and validate who we each are in the narrative that we find ourselves together in. There were also days during that time that I didn’t want to deal with Ryan’s addiction, regardless of my fondness and hope for him, and if I pass this this way again I can imagine a place where that happens continuously for the officers whose ride in the chaos isn’t something they want to keep experiencing. It’s in those agreed upon feelings that we often will act in ways that are not in the best interest of anyone including ourselves. Vicky, who wrote the “Gray Lines” blog for us a while back, took several officers into her son’s room to show them the beloved person that he had been and still is in his family’s life despite his addiction and death from an over-dose. She did so to move those officers from a view that appeared to justify disregarding an addict’s life even if that had not been the intent or had just been an expression of the pain and discouragement that lives in everyone, regardless of position, as a detail of substance use. As we all know, when we are in the midst of any kind of hell it is almost impossible to breathe, let alone think, and misguided moments or falls will occur in our series of movements of trying to get away from what we don’t want or even when going through. However, the longer we stay in the limited view of only what we feel and think or in a place of pain or just walking in circles, the harder it is to find understanding and to be a part of the move that we desire ensuring that change will in fact and in opinion be impossible for any of us. As difficult and as painful as Ryan’s addiction was along our journey’s, some of us have learned to value his darkness as the lessons that were leading to a field of view that held far more than just what we believed lived there. His weeds have encouraged us to get familiar with our own as essential parts of ourselves, the moments before we step, as well as to not stay in any place for so long that we forget that flowers fade when always in the light and the darkness can and will illuminate the things that need to move whether we want them to or not. Show up not just to be heard but to hear the insights that appear to be threatening because to move forward, you can’t stay in the comfortableness and safety of what you already believe or close the doors on the chaos that you don’t want. I am grateful for the tough lessons because beauty doesn’t just live in fun and fabulous people, places, moments or things and I had to be moved, sometimes kicking and screaming along the way, in order to find and understand that. Have the best day possible for you. Love Always, Heavell
Words have the power to create the home that we live in on the inside and when we have different experiences with various terms, our ability to understand ourselves is effected by the comparisons and the valuing of those encounters with as well as by others. Our connections to those things through our emotional definitions provides us the ability to perceive of excusing ourselves and various people in some ways while also preventing forgiveness for others or ourselves in different moments even though to forgive is also to excuse. That difference produces uncertainty, pain and fear which helps to facilitate keeping someone in the weeds for far longer than that person should be. There are all kinds of ways to enable the messes and if we wish to be understood and accepted for who we are then we must also recognize that our field of view is limited when we fail to lean in to hear others and how their homes have come to be. In other words, hell isn’t a place to go to but rather one we carry with us on inside from our experiences whose loud voices will be shared to the outside most often in detrimental ways. Each of us has the choice to change the strength of that by encouraging the certainty of being recognized and valued or we can choose to continue the feeding of the hell by only understanding and justifying some. It is easy enough to see that an addict can use any reason in order to relapse but what’s not there is the recognition of a moment, a feeling or a thought that once again confirms to that individual, a cycle, that he or she will always belong in the weeds as a failure even if that individual also has lots of flowers. Every time Ryan reverted so did I, as did others, as a part of the series of movements because it really is that simple for any of us to go back to what is comfortable rather than to hold onto change particularly when given an excuse to do so. Recently an addict “flipped out” in his kind of life and the rationalization was that his friends were failing to spend enough time with him. If we stay in the fearful and justified position that that it is just an excuse, or in the one where we blame others for not showing up, then we never look closer at what those words are really saying about his chaos on the inside. After all, a moment has the power to alter us but more often it’s that an experience has occurred many times in lots of different ways and the resulting feelings are living and breathing in those funny memories that are then implying who that person is even though it’s a green truth. If you can imagine, it’s just like when we place values on others based on what we think we see or by judging them for their weeds without understanding what’s really there. Have you ever felt that someone has failed to be there for you? What did that feel like in your heart and what did you think about yourself afterwards because of that encounter? Did it happen once or multiple times? Was it one person or more than one? Have you ever felt lonely in a room full of people? Ryan definitely felt that way in his life even if his details were different from that young man and because of that they have a connection and an understanding of each other. The unity that they share, then, provides a comfortable home for the hurt and the fear to get stronger in which is exactly what we don’t want. When I walk this way again I can see how our failure to do this better ourselves enabled Ryan feeling safer in the place where substances helped to ease his pain and loneliness instead of experiencing those things in a vulnerable position like being in a room full of people who didn’t help him to feel safe enough to be there. That is not to say that we are not entitled to have our gray lines, because we absolutely are, but it’s whether we hold the line with safety and forgiveness that opens the door so that the hoped for change can eventually take a step or we remain the same with the justifications that help to ensure the continuation of uncertainty and pain. So how do we help others feel safe enough to sit down with their hell rather than to continue to lose parts of themselves? How do we do that when some of what they have to say means we have to hear how we have been a part of the hurt and the feeding of what we didn’t want? What if it will require us to change too and that we will find ourselves seeking understanding from others as we fall again and again as a part of the process? How impossible will that expectation feel and will uncomfortableness and or fear keep us from being able to? The ride is a painful process but the change we seek is a series of movements while in the midst of it that starts with being safe enough to acknowledge our own weeds; including the ones we have had a limited view of as well as the ones we have been unaware of. It’s leaning in to hear the things that we don’t want to in order to help others be safe enough to learn to show up for themselves especially if they or we go back because in this so very heavell life there are always plenty of reasons to do so. This is me and I am a dreaded “f” moment maker who has been a part of the problems in my life as well as the beholder of the beauty that can be found there too. Step by step and fall by fall, while carrying the weight of my world, I am learning to understand my story and how my emotional definitions of terms have come home to live within me. When thinking of you, are you safe enough in your place to pick your own weeds or are you afraid of being seen in your darkness and feeling what’s there? Or perhaps, just like everyone else, it’s the judgement of not being seen and understood for all that you are that scares you? Have the best day possible for you because what could have been a flower still can be by being safe enough with fondness, trust and forgiveness for yourself as a part of the transformation that is always enfolding you. It’s good to be home in the place that needs us most even when hell lives there too. Love Always, Heavell
Our feelings and the memories that provide a home for them can be as unwelcoming as change is but whether we think about them or not, our hearts will continue to value what’s there even when we seek safety by denying their existence in order to make it appear as if they were nothing. Perhaps it’s that we believe by moving them from the light into the shadows or leaving them behind in the yesterdays or by using substances they will be silenced and cease to be a part of us but the real truth is that the power of what has been done, lived and breathed, cannot be undone through comfortableness and easiness or by forgetting that something has occurred. Even our ability to perceive of having trust, fondness and friendship for ourselves and with others is affected by our hiding of those objects which just adds to the weight of what we are already carrying. Those items are essentially the beholders of our pain and so long as they stay in our collection of things in the same form, they will find all sorts of ways to be illuminated until we do what scares us most which is, of course, being in and going through the weeds. Can you imagine a place where someone failed to show up for you in whatever manner that it occurred? Can you, then, turn around and view how trying to lose parts of yourself is the very same thing but appears to be different because of the details that surround it? Following Ryan’s overdose at the age of eighteen, he was sober for about eleven months until a catastrophic event in his life, a “choice” by another addict, pushed him over the edge again. He was driving one evening and as he approached a part of the street that was darkened by a non-working street light and the shadow of a very tall tree, he encountered a person who was drunkenly walking directly in his path and unable to stop in time, he hit that individual. As a part of the investigation, the police drew his blood at the scene of the accident which proved he was sober. The knowledge of that was a heaven or a beauty in a hellish situation but what was much harder to perceive of, because there’s no test for it, was how he felt in the moment that he and that other person collided and subsequently whether his memories of what had occurred in just a matter of seconds would result in his seeking safety from those feelings and thoughts through substance use once again. Would the words “why was that person there or if only he or she hadn’t been” be on repeat in his mind making it impossible to escape them without the help of a substance? I know how that accident affected me but that particular view from the outside wasn’t aware of the value of what it felt like in his heart; the person who actually lived it. For some, his falling from that moment was just an excuse to use, as if he was a failure as a whole, rather than being seen as a “flipping out” in response to a traumatic event even though those same people also “flip out” in their lives but in different ways that appear to be acceptable. After all, fear, pain, grief, hell and even happiness are experienced individually and they are never ever felt in the exact same way nor are they always expressed in a manner that we understand for that reason as well. When I pass this way again, I can see that some of my anger with Ryan was because I just couldn’t understand how he could fail to be there for himself and for me it seemed simple enough to deal with those “small things” but whenever we are in hell, what’s there is never ever something we can just “get over” or leave behind. As I look both ways, I am able to view how my not leaning in to hear his perspective from that particular circumstance facilitated his not showing up for himself once again and the real truth is that it had occurred at other times as well. Our desire to solve very complicated issues in the easiest and most comfortable way possible by losing parts as if they were nothing does not provide safety nor fondness for those who are carrying the weight of the world. It’s no wonder why it takes so long for anyone to find his or her way through such an unwelcoming and painful place on the inside as well as on the outside. Memories and feelings are funny things because each one has the ability to effect us as a forget me not for far longer than we believe or had hoped for. In a different truth, though, those items are by no means just the reminders of dreaded “f” moments that appear to reflect us as being only failures and impossibilities because they are actually a part of how change continually enfolds us until we recognize that we have been forgetting to show up for ourselves in any kind of life’s most difficult moments. In other words, the power of what hurts won’t fade in the dark or just quietly disappear into the past but if we go back and encircle those forget me nots and lean in to hear them, the beauty of them will be illuminated by that transformation helping us to go through on such a ride in the weeds. Oh hell, the words “forget me nots” are perceived as being the symbolism of appreciation and love and what better place to be enfolded by those feelings than when we are scared, in pain and struggling to breathe? Have the best day possible for you and remember to love you where you are as a step towards understanding your story. Love Always, Heavell
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